


A Dozen Broses

by Los_Gwilwileth



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Drag Queens, F/M, Falling In Love, Flirty Pippin, Friendship, Human Smaug, Inter-School Olympics, M/M, P.s It's fabulous, Sort-of Good Guy Smaug, The Homosexual Horse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 07:21:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4254435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Los_Gwilwileth/pseuds/Los_Gwilwileth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High School.</p><p>'The time of your life' they say. For Frodo Underhill, that statement doesn't quite ring true. But the Inter-School Olympics are coming up, and that means rivalry, shirtless hotties, and, quite possibly, the chance to score a boyfriend. With friends falling to romance all around, will poor Frodo ever find love?</p><p>Read on to find a story of friendship, boy-crazy teens and a garland of roses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dozen Broses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InsaneFictionGeek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneFictionGeek/gifts).



> A gift for InsaneFictionGeek (Go read their work) who asked for a fic featuring the hobbits and the side characters from the fellowship. Hope you like it!
> 
> Some notes about this story in case you are confused about points in the story:
> 
> -Aragorn is Elrond's biological father  
> -Tauriel is Thranduil's adopted 'daughter'.  
> -Frodo's last name is Underhill because he and Bilbo aren't related, and also they are around the same age  
> -All high school characters (everyone except Thranduil, Elrond and Thrain) are 17-18 years of age  
> -I know that in the movies Merry goes with Eomer, but in this fic it's Pippin because IT JUST IS, OK?!  
> -Fìli and Kìli are Thrain's sons as well as Thorin, and they are one year younger than Thorin (Thorin is 18)  
> -Eomer and Eowyn are the same person. (Eowyn is Eomer's drag personality)  
> -Here is a list of the competitors:  
> Durin: Thorin, Fìli, Kìli, Boromir, Gimli, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Dwalin, Dori, Nori, Ori, Bilbo, Smaug  
> Rivendell: Elrohir, Elladan, Aragorn, Frodo, Eomer/Eowyn, Faramir, Harlabad, Some other characters (I ran out of people)  
> Mirkwood:Legolas, Tauriel, Sam, Orophin, Rumil, Arwen, Some other characters (I ran out of people.....again.)  
> -Mirkwood is Co-Ed and Durin and Rivendell are Boys only.  
> -Smaug has issues
> 
> I don't own anything. All credit goes to Peter Jackson and J.R.R. Tolkien.

"I can't believe that they're coming to our school!"

Pippin was bouncing up and down, grinning manically at his two (rather exasperated) friends, Merry and Frodo.

"It's not such a big deal. They're just...well, other schools."

" _It is a big deal!_ Mirkwood Academy and Durin College are competing against Rivendell High in the Inter-School Olympics for the first time in seven years!"

Frodo rolled his eyes. The Inter-School Olympics were thought to have been permanently cancelled after the _incident_ involving the headmasters of Rivendell and Mirkwood, the principle of Durin College, eight tarantulas, a banana cream pie (extra large size) and a rather slimy pond. But recently, in the so-called 'interests of building teamwork and leadership skills, as well as furthering the social education of youth", they had been reinstated. Pippin started up again.

"I heard that the boys at Durin College are dreamy. Practically everyone is a football player, so think about all the muscles. Also, the chances of them playing shirtless are pre-tty high-just think about that for a second. But there's a rumour that the Mirkwood students are quite nice, not as good as Durin Col, but hey, it's got girls as well, so something for everyone."

Suddenly, Aragorn came racing across the quad, scrambling up the bleachers to sit beside them. 

"The buses are here! Come on, we can see them if we run!"

Merry and Pippin almost broke the record for the fastest packing of a schoolbag as they crammed their stuff in, yelling at Frodo to hurry up. They drew up to the driveway where the buses had parked, scurrying across the road to join the small crowd of other boys who were watching-or perhaps waiting- for the other students to disembark. The doors to the first bus opened and the distinctive grey uniform of Durin college was revealed as the students clambered down onto the gravel pathway and forming a loose line. Almost all of them had full beards, except the presumed leader of the group, a tall boy with dark, shoulder-length hair and short stubble who turned to stare at them with expressive blue-grey eyes.

"That's Thorin, their champion athlete." Merry whispered, discretely gesturing to the boy.

"Be still, my beating heart." Pippin sighed dramatically, clasping his chest as he oogled the muscular arms on display under the thin shirts. Frodo quickly scanned their fourteen chosen representatives, wondering who excelled at what. Another boy who was almost as tall as Thorin glared at them, before walking off with the other students to their allocated changing room.

"I think that Mr. Hostile over there is Smaug. He's one of Durin's best soccer players, and versatile to boot. Watch out for him when you play, Frodo." Merry whispered again.

Thorin stopped to give a kiss to a boy who appeared to be half his height, ruffling the brunette's curly hair.

"Bilbo and Thorin. Just when you thought that you had lost all faith in relationships between students at Durin 'Hearts of Stone' College, Bam! Along comes Bilbo, capturing the heart of the school's most popular guy. And he doesn't even have a beard!" Aragorn groused in Frodo's ear.

Then the doors to the Mirkwood bus opened, and three boys and four girls emerged. None of them had hair shorter than Thorin's. Frodo wondered why only half their team had arrived, but then a strange drumming sound came floating down the drive, and heads simultaneously turned to crane their necks at what was happening. A squadron of seven horses was galloping across the gravel, led by a young man with pale hair that streamed out behind him as he guided the dapple gray he was riding towards the group of Mirkwood students standing in a line beside the bus. He extended his right arm as he rode by, and the red-haired girl at the front of the line grabbed it and swung herself gracefully up behind the blond. This manoeuvre was repeated flawlessly by the rest of the riders and students, and they headed towards the stables behind a grove of trees near F block, a relic from the older days of the school, when it was called Gondolin High.

Pippin stared at the rapidly disappearing tails of the steeds of Mirkwood's students.

"I don't believe it. I knew that Mirkwood students weren't exactly humble, but that-that was shoving their superiority in our faces. We'll show them that we deserve our titles today. See how they feel about losing for once."

Frodo sighed again and turned to Aragorn, who was staring, slack-jawed, in the direction of the stables. Gritting his teeth, he gingerly used the side of his blazer's sleeve to wipe the string of drool from his friend's mouth. Pippin, who had noticed Aragorn's state, suddenly gave a menacing yet innocent smile.

"You do know that Blondie-yes, I can see your pupils forming hearts already, Aragorn- is the son of Mirkwood's headmaster, Thranduil. And my I remind you that you are the son of headmaster Elrond, Thranduil's first-equal arch rival, along with principle Thrain? Enjoy having your ass handed to you on a gilded platter with an 'expelled' sign taped on it, because there's no way in hell that you're going to have him."

Aragorn shook his head and let out a tortured moan.

"I'll find a way. I swear."

 

At 8.30, headmaster Elrond had managed to round up the competitors and was standing on the stage set up on the field beside headmaster Thranduil, who appeared to be immensely enjoying the extra three inches of height he had on Elrond (no, he was not wearing high heels, he was just tall) and Principle Thrain looked almost comically short (at 5'2) compared to the headmasters, who were both over 6' tall.

"Everyone, please settle down. I am now going to announce the order of events for today. If you are competing, please make sure that you are at the designated area for your sport five minutes before competing, so that we can confirm your presence. Now, the order for today is;  
First will be the track events.  
At 8.30, the relay races will start.  
9.00, the sprints.  
At 9.30, hurdles.  
Then we have the field events.  
At 10.00, long jump will start.  
10.30, high jump.  
11.00, shot put.  
11.30, discus.  
At 12.00, javelin.  
Finally, at 12.30, archery.  
Then, we will move out onto the school field for the games and equestrian events.  
At 1.00, horseback archery.  
At 1.30, the soccer match.  
2.00, horseback racing.  
2.30, netball.  
3.00, football.  
At to finish off the day, we will have the famous pie eating contest at 3.30.

Now, let the Inter-School Olympics begin!"

There was a great cheer and Frodo breathed a sigh of relief. He wouldn't be competing early, thank goodness. 8.20 was to early to be up and enthusiastic, even with coffee. He wondered how the other students did it. There was a commotion at the entrance as the Mirkwood and Durin spectators arrived, but it quickly died down as they found their seats, some sitting down beside friends from other schools. He watched as the red-head from Mirkwood sat down next to one of the Durin boys and immediately start exploring each other's mouths. Frodo was distracted from their reunion by a soft voice from behind him.

"Is this seat taken?"

Frodo turned to see the speaker and found a rather rotund boy with golden curls and a small, shy smile just brushing his lips.

But it was the boy's eyes that captivated him. 

A rich hazel, they seemed to draw him in, with a spark of something warm and homey living inside them, something that reminded him of snowy mornings wrapped up in bed, of hot chocolate beside the fireplace on a cold night. They were comforting eyes, he decided. Eyes that you could stare into for time eternal and find not a single bad memory.

Then he realised that the boy was still waiting for an answer, and he quickly tried to regain his voice.

"Uh, yeah. Wait, no, I mean, like, this seat is free, so sit down....."

Why did he sound like such an idiot? TotallyUncoolTown, population: Frodo.

"My name's Sam. Well, actually it's Samwise, but I prefer Sam. And spam. What's your favourite food?" The boy-no, Sam- offered him a wide, genuine smile, and he felt himself smiling in return.

"My name's Frodo. My favourite food is probably ice cream, but not banana flavour. Gross. Can I ask if you're competing?"

"I am, but only in the pie-eating contest. Otherwise, I'm pretty useless. I mean, look at me!" Sam chuckled and gestured to his belly. "I love food too much. I wouldn't waste it on sports or exercise. I'm also a Mirkwood student, but I think you can guess from the uniform. Are you a Rivendell student?"

Below them, a whistle blew, sounding the start of the relay races. A great cheer arose from the crowd and Frodo waited for it to die down before speaking again.

"Yes, I'm from Rivendell. And I'm competing in the pie-eating contest as well. I'm also competing in the soccer, so, friendly rivalry, I guess?"

"We're friends? After only a minute and a half?"

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

"We don't have to be friends. But friends for today would be nice, since there's nothing much to do except watch people fail until our events roll around."

"True. Shall we be friends?"

They shook hands.

Frodo found himself immersed in his conversation with Sam, their topics flowing easily from one to the other. Sam paused when Frodo mentioned Pippin and Merry.

"They're my closest friends at Rivendell. Where are they? That's Merry over there with a- Durin boy? Really? And Pippin's sitting next to him, and- no, that can't be Eomer. I thought he hated sports. The only sport he like is horse riding, and that's not for hours. What's he doing?"

"Flirting with Pippin, I think. Wait, is he wearing a dress?"

"Ah, yes. Eomer is a Drag Queen. His persona is called Eowyn. Headmaster Elrond must have given him special permission to wear mufti today."

Sam peered closer at Merry. "I think the boy he's flirting with is called Boromir. He's from Durin College."

Frodo joined Sam in his scrutinising, just in time to see Eowyn planting a kiss on Pippin's cheek, which descended into a series of pecks ending a desperate mission to chart the territory of each other's mouths.

Oh well, least he couldn't see tongue.

Then Merry and Boromir decided to copy Pippin and Eowyn's little love-fest.

Ugh.

Highschoolers.

 _Gay_ Highschoolers.

He quickly resumed his conversation with Sam.

 

"Legolas looks like he's killing the competition. And it isn't even his speciality."

"Who?"

"He's the blond guy about ten meters in front of everyone else, doing hurdles." 

"Thranduil's son?!"

"The very one. I think he has a high chance of winning this competition."

"Feh. You haven't seen us play our strengths yet." 

 

After several more hours of talking, Frodo noticed that the archery butts were being set up. He elbowed Sam. 

"Look, it'll be Aragorn's time to shine now. He's the best at archery in Rivendell. He's going to wipe the floor with you Mirkwooders."

"I wouldn't be so sure. My bets' on Legolas, or Tauriel. You know, the red-head? Legolas's adopted sister? Her boyfriend Kìli's there as well, along with his brother Fìli. They're representing Durin."

"Huh. Elladan's pretty good as well-he's Aragorn's brother. Don't you find it ironic that all the contestants are related to the Heads of the the schools?"

Sam let out another chuckle. "I wonder if it's some sort of weird coincidence. Or a conspiracy. Either way, it's going to be the toughest event in the whole competition, because they all have their father's ambitions-and pride- resting on their shoulders."

"Nice one, Aragorn!" Frodo yelled. His friend had been the first to compete, and had scored well. Elladan came only a little behind him. Then Legolas stepped up. A perfect score. Tauriel was only two points behind him. Kìli scored solidly, with Fìli only seven points behind him.

"Hah!" Sam grinned. "I told you we would triumph!"

"Sssssh, they're reading out the scores now!"

Legolas came in first place, followed by Tauriel. Aragorn came next, then Kìli. Elladan and Fìli only had one point separating their scores. 

Tauriel turned to Kìli and kissed him passionately, whispering something in his ear.

Legolas turned to Aragorn, who presumably had a heart attack judging from his behavior as the blonde-haired boy bent down to kiss him. 

Elladan and Fìli shared a mutual _'brothers'_ look, complete with eye roll, before sharing a quick kiss.

"Awww, love all around." Remarked Sam.

"Thranduil's going to have an apoplexy, alongside Elrond and Thrain." Frodo shot back.

"True. But at least I don't have to deal with the mess."

 

They wandered outside into the bright sunshine, still chatting amicably.

"At least the ground is dry."

"And shaking."

It was true. The ground trembled as the horses streaked past, their riders yelling encouragements to their mounts (or threats to turn them into glue) as they tried to get to the front of the pack.

"Sweet grilled cheese, is that Eomer?!"

".....Yes, it appears that he has somehow dyed the mane and tail of his horse with all the colours of the rainbow."

"His horse is grey. I do hope that the colour washes out soon, for the horse's sake if not his own."

"I always thought that Eomer's horse was called Firefoot, not Rainbowfoot."

"Never underestimate the power of multicoloured glitter."

 

Before Frodo knew it, it was time to get ready for the soccer match.

"Cheer for me, will you?" He told Sam as he walked away to the changing rooms.

It was a close game, with Smaug resorting to some... _unorthadox_ tactics (read: leaving a trail of bruised students as he barrelled down the field towards the goal) to win, but Rivendell High tasted victory once again, largely due to the surprise tactic of Elrohir busting out his best moves in the middle of the field as Smaug bore down on him, singing at the top of his lungs.

" _Shawty fire burning on the dance floor!_ "

"Laketown will _burn!_ "(???) hissed Smaug, skidding to a halt a meter away from Elrohir.

He then promptly collapsed on the field, where the medics hurried over to cart him away on a stretcher. Alongside Mirkwood Academy opting out of the soccer match, today seemed to be very fortunate.

 

The pie-eating contestants stepped up onto the stage, Sam throwing him a wink as they settled down at the table (covered with a cheap plastic tablecloth) on the stage. Durin college had entered two contestants, the limit for the pie-eating competition, while Mirkwood and Rivendell had entered only one. Frodo was suprised to see Thorin's boyfriend Bilbo up on stage alongside an enormously fat boy, who had on a nametag that read 'Bombur'. 

Then the announcer called "ready!" and he concentrated on preparing himself.

Seven minutes later, the results were announced.

"In first place, Samwise Gamgee of Mirkwood Academy!

In second place, Frodo Underhill of Rivendell High!

And in third place, Bilbo Baggins of Durin College!"

Lining up to take their bows after they had been presented with their flower garlands, Frodo nudged Sam in the ribs.

"Ugh, I have Daffodudes." He whined, tugging at the virulent yellow circle of flowers. "Lucky you, Mr. First Place,. You get to have roses."

Sam smiled and shuffled closer to Frodo, before lifting his garland and draping it around Frodo's neck as well as his own.

"There. Broses. You happy now?" Sam teased.

 

The smile they shared was the beginning of something more than friendship.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> I love comments and kudos, so go ahead, don't be afraid to leave one!
> 
> P.s I don't mind (constructive) criticism, and yes, I know I screwed up my viewpoints, don't judge.


End file.
